


Shelter in Place

by iwatsukki



Series: shut in [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Hurt/Comfort, Kinda, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Praise Kink, Quarantine got me FUCKED UP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-05
Updated: 2020-04-05
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:35:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23502469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iwatsukki/pseuds/iwatsukki
Summary: The blinds are closed, and the small lamp on the opposite side of the room from the desk does little to illuminate the space. Kuroo, however, can still see the dark circles under Kenma’s eyes, and a lump forms in his throat. Even though Kenma wasn’t one to go out much anyway, Kuroo knows that the stay-at-home order had been hard for him, his anxiety about the situation disrupting his sleep.He approaches his sleeping boyfriend’s chair, and Kenma instinctively raises his arms up to be carried. God, Kuroo couldn’t stand how cute he was sometimes. He crouches down, slips an arm underneath Kenma’s knees, and secures another arm around his waist. Kenma leans into him, hands fisting in Kuroo’s shirt, and Kuroo carries him into their bedroom.
Relationships: Kozume Kenma/Kuroo Tetsurou
Series: shut in [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1697956
Comments: 15
Kudos: 295





	Shelter in Place

**Author's Note:**

> this was supposed to be like sensual and romantic and then it got filthy but then i had to add some STUPID ASS fluff because im STUPID. also my lonely quarantined ass is lonely and projecting so theres that too (------: anyway i hope everyone is safe and sound during this crazy ass time (no proofreading we die like men)

The soft setting sun filters through the blinds in the living room, and Kuroo stretches his wiry muscles in its warmth. He’s lying on the couch, bored out of his mind. He’s been stuck at home for the past few weeks, barricaded to the cozy apartment he moved into with Kenma a few months back. As a personal trainer, all of his sessions had been cancelled, and the gym he worked for cancelled all house calls as well. There were very limited options for expending his excess energy. 

That’s why Kuroo sits up, anxious, bouncing his foot on the carpet under the coffee table. The vintage kitty wall clock ticks and Kuroo watches it attentively. He remembers when he saw it at the antique shop that Oikawa dragged him into a while back, and Kuroo _knew_ he had to have it when he realized how much it reminded him of his boyfriend. Kenma had to bite back a smile when Kuroo gave it to him, and the restrained grin on Kenma’s face made Kuroo’s stomach do a backflip. It was almost five o’ clock, the end of the normal work day. 

While Kuroo is cooped up, Kenma is working as normal as a programmer for a tech start-up in the area. When Kenma and Kuroo were picking out an apartment, Kuroo insisted that they pick a two-bedroom so that Kenma could have a home office. Kenma had whined, saying that it was unnecessary, but when Kuroo had hauled his desk into the second bedroom and arranged Kenma’s desk toys the way he knew he liked them, Kuroo could tell how happy Kenma was. He lived to see Kenma happy, and Kuroo was planning on making Kenma _very_ happy this evening. 

When the short hand of the cat clock finally reaches five, Kuroo wastes no time bounding over to the door of Kenma’s office and knocking on the hardwood. “Kenma,” Kuroo calls, “it's five! Open up!” Kuroo waits a moment, and when there’s no response, he pushes open the door carefully. It was possible that Kenma had headphones in, and Kuroo didn’t want to startle him. 

When Kuroo sees Kenma, his heart twists painfully in his chest. Kenma was sleeping sitting up, his face resting in his palm and his elbow on the desk, light colored hair falling over his cheekbones. The blinds are closed, and the small lamp on the opposite side of the room from the desk does little to illuminate the space. Kuroo, however, can still see the dark circles under Kenma’s eyes, and a lump forms in his throat. Even though Kenma wasn’t one to go out much anyway, Kuroo knows that the stay-at-home order had been hard for him, his anxiety about the situation disrupting his sleep. It's tempting to let him keep sleeping, but Kuroo knows that it’ll be better if Kenma maintains somewhat of a normal sleep schedule. 

Kuroo approaches him slowly, careful not to startle him awake. “Kenma,” he calls, gentle. Kenma stirs slightly, shifting in his chair. “It's time to get up.” He approaches his sleeping boyfriend’s chair, and Kenma instinctively raises his arms up to be carried. God, Kuroo couldn’t stand how cute he was sometimes. He crouches down, slips an arm underneath Kenma’s knees, and secures another arm around his waist. Kenma leans into him, hands fisting in Kuroo’s shirt, and Kuroo carries him into their bedroom. 

Kenma loved his job, but he had a habit of overworking himself when he was stressed, to the point where Kuroo had to drag him away from the computer so he would stop working for the night. When Kuroo sets him gently on their bed, Kenma groans. “You didn’t have to come get me you know.” Kuroo smiles--as Kenma wakes up, he reverts back to his usual, independent self. 

“It was time for you to be done anyway, love,” Kuroo replies. Kenma’s eyes are still closed, and Kuroo hovers over him and presses a kiss to his cheek. “Don’t move, okay?” 

Kenma hums in acquiescence. Kuroo rummages around in their bedside drawer, pulling out a few things that he had planned to use this evening. Kuroo had made a secret online order after Kenma had confided in him about how stressed he was. Kuroo fully intended to help his boyfriend relax. 

Kuroo doesn’t hear his Kenma roll onto his side. “You’re lighting a candle?” Kenma asks softly. “What’s this about?” 

“Let me take care of you,” Kuroo murmurs, “okay?” 

Kenma doesn’t respond, and instead lets his eyes follow Kuroo’s movements, his irises shimmering in the candlelight. Kuroo pulls a bottle out of the drawer that Kenma hadn’t seen before, and goosebumps spread across his skin in anticipation. Kuroo turns and sees Kenma’s eyes widening, and gives one of his Cheshire cat smiles that turns Kenma’s legs to jelly. 

Kuroo climbs onto the bed and straddles Kenma, coaxing his boyfriend into a sitting position. “Up,” he says, gripping at the hem of Kenma’s shirt. Kenma looks slightly apprehensive, but obeys, and Kuroo discards both their shirts on the ground next to the bed. Kuroo reaches for Kenma’s shoulders and tries to maneuver him onto his stomach. Kenma is still languid and pliant from sleep, and flips onto his front without resistance. 

Kenma turns his head to the side and rests his cheek on the pillow. His eyes are closed, and Kuroo swears he has the prettiest boyfriend in the whole world. He reaches for the bottle on the bedside table and flips open the cap, the smell of vanilla filling up the room. 

“Mm, Kuroo,” Kenma mumbles, “what is that?” 

“Edible massage oil, Kenma,” Kuroo says. “Let me know if you want me to stop.” 

When his hands are slicked with oil, Kuroo rubs his palms across Kenma’s back, reveling in the way that the oil makes his skin look glowy and sinfully beautiful. He starts to press his thumbs between Kenma’s shoulder blades, and Kenma releases a trembling breath that goes straight to the heat building at the bottom of Kuroo’s stomach.

Kuroo works firm circles into the knots of muscles in Kenma’s back, and Kuroo’s heart twists at how tense he is. He moves Kenma’s long hair off of his shoulders, revealing his nape. Kuroo presses a kiss to the back of Kenma’s neck and nips lightly at his earlobe. “Relax, baby,” he whispers, “you’re so tense.” Kenma shudders.

The air in their cozy bedroom is starting to get warm, and Kuroo feels sweat beading on his forehead with the exertion of the massage. He pauses, dragging his nails delicately through Kenma’s hair. Kuroo knows how much Kenma loves having his hair played with, and how it turns him into putty underneath Kuroo’s fingertips. Kuroo loves this, _lives_ for this, lives for how Kenma falls apart beneath him. A sick part of him loves the power trip, loves knowing that Kenma, prickly, withdrawn Kenma, is at his mercy—that only Kuroo can protect him, that Kenma belongs only to Kuroo. But mostly, Kuroo loves it because he’s happiest when Kenma is feeling good, when he sighs in pleasure, and when he smiles in the shadows of the space shared between them. Because Kuroo loves Kenma harder than anyone has ever loved another human being.

Kuroo licks a stripe up Kenma’s back, the oil pooling in between the knobs of his spine. Kuroo mouths at the juncture of Kenma’s neck and shoulder, but his hands slip down his back, thumbs rubbing firm circles into the dimples above the waistband of Kenma’s shorts. He presses a kiss to the side of Kenma’s neck, feeling the pulse quickening beneath his lips. “How do you feel, baby?”

Kenma whines, arching his back and grinding his hips against Kuro’s growing bulge. Kuroo shudders and drags his fingers to the top of Kenma’s shorts, and Kenma lifts his hips in silent permission. The swell of Kenma’s ass makes Kuroo’s breath catch in his throat, the candlelight dancing across his soft skin. 

It's too much, he’s too beautiful, and Kuroo can’t help but spread Kenma open and press his tongue flat against Kenma’s entrance. 

Kuroo also knows how much Kenma loves _this_ , loves being worked open with Kuroo’s mouth until he’s leaking and begging for Kuroo to fuck him. Kenma tastes clean, sweet with the taste of the oil, and Kuroo spreads him even wider and pushes his tongue inside. 

“Kuroo--” Kenma gasps, squirming violently, “ _fuck_ , I can’t, its too much--” His skin, his nerves are on fire from the massage, and Kuroo can’t help but quicken his pace, can’t help but shove his tongue deeper and squeeze the tops of Kenma’s thighs. Kuroo nibbles at Kenma’s rim and works lower, sucking on the sensitive skin between Kenma’s asshole and balls. Kenma pushes his hips back, begging for more, and that sends Kuroo over the edge. 

He growls, and manhandles Kenma onto his back. Kenma’s face is completely blissed out--relaxed, but his brow is furrowed, aching for more, and his cock is flushed and leaking against his stomach. Kuroo’s mouth waters, and he drips more oil onto his fingers. Kuroo moves down and throws one of Kenma’s legs over his shoulder, breathing hot air onto the head of his hard cock. Kuroo trails his fingers gently across the sensitive skin of Kenma’s thighs, and thumbs at the rim of Kenma’s asshole. “May I, darling?” Kuroo purrs, kissing the crease of Kenma’s thigh. 

“Please, Tetsurou,” Kenma gulps, and the use of his given name nearly sends Kuroo into a frenzy. His cock is aching, and he feels like if he’s not inside Kenma in the next five seconds he might die. But Kuroo knows that he needs to draw this out, to make sure Kenma is as pliant and relaxed as possible. The last thing he would want to do is rush him, or stress him out more than he already was. 

Kuroo slides a single slick finger into Kenma, feeling his hot, wet velvet insides that he’s _dying_ to sink his cock into. Kenma sighs, and it's the most blissful sound Kuroo has ever heard. He starts working his finger in and out and mouths lightly along the side of Kenma’s cock, and Kenma lets his legs fall open even further. “More.” Kuroo can only oblige. 

He pushes another finger in and Kenma moans, one hand fisting in the bedsheets and another in Kuroo’s hair. Kuroo works his fingers in deep and sucks at the head of Kenma’s cock, relishing the taste of his precum. Kenma thrashes and tugs on Kuroo’s hair, and Kuroo groans. The vibrations around Kenma’s cock leave him gasping for air, and Kuroo smirks. 

Kuroo takes Kenma all the way down his throat, his nose pressing into the thick hair at the base of Kenma’s cock. He starts to work up and down, and slides a third finger into Kenma. They’ve done this countless times, unravel each others’ inhibitions daily, and yet it never gets old. Kuroo knows exactly how to make Kenma fall apart begging at his feet, and Kenma knows exactly how to get Kuroo to give him what he craves. The chemistry between them never fails to amaze Kuroo, no matter how many times they make love. 

His fingers bottom out and Kuroo spreads them apart, stretching Kenma to his limits. He curls his middle finger, pressing at the spot inside Kemna that sends him into a frenzy of moaning and squirming, and Kuroo can’t help but chuckle. “You’re so sensitive, baby.” 

Kenma can’t catch his breath enough to respond, so Kuroo pushes against his prostate harder. Kenma nearly thrashes out of Kuroo’s grip, and Kuroo crawls up and shushes Kenma with a kiss. “Relax, kitten, I’ll give you what you want,” he hums. “You just need to ask.” 

“Tetsurou, please, I need you,” Kenma begs. 

“What do you need?” Kuroo grins. 

“I need you, I need your cock.” Kuroo has never seen Kenma this far gone. “Make me feel good, Tetsurou.” 

Kuroo kisses Kenma deeply, pulling out his fingers and reaching for the massage oil. “Yes, Kenma, kitten, anything you want.” He slicks up his cock, indulging in a few extra strokes as he looks at his boyfriend’s gorgeous, wrecked face. Kuroo brings a hand to Kenma’s cheek and anchors the other on the bed as he pushes inside. 

They moan in unison when Kuroo bottoms out, pressed in so deep that Kenma must be able to feel Kuroo in his throat. Kenma’s jaw hangs open and Kuroo can’t help but lick into his mouth. Kenma is so out of his mind that he barely reacts, too wrapped up in the pleasure of being stretched. Kuroo studies his furrowed eyebrows and trembling bottom lip, looking for signs of discomfort, but the only thing present on Kenma’s face is overwhelming desire. “I’m going to move now, baby, okay?” 

“Yes, Tetsurou, please.” 

Kenma’s begging adds fuel to the fire screaming through Kuroo’s veins. He pulls his hips back and thrusts forward, and Kenma throws his head back against the pillow. Kuroo can’t help but take the invitation to bite greedily at Kenma’s porcelain throat, to ruin the flawless skin and mark him for himself. Kenma feels so good, he’s so wet and hot and _tight_ that Kuroo feels like he’s losing his mind. Kenma whimpers as Kuroo puts more force behind each thrust.

“You make the prettiest noises, kitten,” Kuroo gushes. Kenma doesn’t usually take well to praise--normally he’s too shy, too anxious to take compliments, and it's difficult for him to see how the people around him admire and revere him. “You’re so gorgeous, Kenma, I don’t know how you can be so beautiful.” Kuroo makes sure that Kenma knows how special he is, and judging by Kenma’s reaction every time, he gets off on the praise. 

As such, Kenma arches his back at the compliment and wraps his limbs around Kuroo. His fingers dig into Kuroo’s strong shoulders, and Kenma crosses his ankles behind Kuroo’s back to pull him in even closer. Kuro keeps thrusting, savoring the drag of Kenma’s insides, and his cock throbs when Kenma scratches violently at his skin. 

Kuroo feels himself getting close, but he wants Kenma to finish first. He _needs_ Kenma to cum first, to see his face as he is met with the most saccharine form of agony. Kenma is always beyond gorgeous--his face when he cums is no exception. Kuroo pulls away slightly from Kenma’s torso, and snakes a hand between them to stroke Kenma’s impossibly hard cock. Kenma gasps at the contact, and Kuroo grips at his length harder. 

He works his palm over the tip of Kenma’s dick and presses a thumb into the slit, knowing that's where Kenma is most sensitive. Kuroo can tell by Kenma’s slack jaw and the tears slipping out of his eyes that he’s on the edge, so Kuroo angles his hips upward and aims for Kenma’s prostate. He’s well practiced, so he finds it right away, and Kenma’s moans rise in pitch and volume. 

“Tetsurou, fuck, I’m so close,” Kenma pants, and Kuroo works his hand over his dick faster. “I’m going to cum, fuck.” 

Kuroo wants to lean down and kiss the love of his life, swallow his moans and share gasping breaths, but he wants to see Kenma’s face even more. Kenma’s brows furrow and he throws his head back in ecstasy, and Kuroo feels his cock throb and spill all over their bodies. They both moan and it drives Kuroo all the way to the edge, burying his face in Kenma’s neck. Kenma clenches around his cock and and it feels so good Kuroo could swear he was dying. His hips stutter and he climaxes, curling in on himself and emptying hot cum into Kenma. 

He doesn’t want the moment to end. He wants to crawl inside Kenma and live there, warm and sated and happy for the rest of his life, but Kenma is trembling beneath him and concern outweighs his selfish desires. Kuroo presses tentative, tender kisses to Kenma’s pulse, and pets at his hair in a languid attempt to soothe the shaking man beneath him. 

Kenma’s mouth is hanging open when Kuroo pushes himself up onto his elbows, but his face is completely relaxed, and Kuroo smiles. Kuroo rolls onto his back and Kenma rolls on top of him, clinging like his life depended on it. 

While Kuroo lived to take Kenma apart piece by piece in divine pleasure, he also lived for these moments, when Kenma’s walls were down and he let himself be cared for like he deserved. Kuroo could feel Kenma’s heartbeat slowing to something steady and calm and Kuroo sighs in relief. He combs through Kenma’s hair with delicate fingers, and Kenma sinks into the touch. 

“I’ve been worried about you, Kenma,” Kuroo murmurs, pressing a kiss to the top of Kenma’s head. 

Kenma stirs and looks up at Kuroo with shining eyes. “Why, Tetsurou?” 

“You’ve been stressed lately. I can tell.” 

Kenma looks away, guilty, and Kuroo’s heart twists beneath his ribs. “It's okay, I just want you to be healthy, and happy.” Kuroo prays that Kenma’s eyes aren’t shiny from tears. “I know you still have to work right now, but I’m here for you, okay? Let me take care of you sometimes.” Even though Kenma seems like the fragile, anxious one, he’s normally the one comforting Kuroo when Kuroo is overcome with self-doubt because of his job, because of the people around him, or because of himself. Kenma will front all day, seemingly not needing reassurance, but after so many years Kuroo knew him better than that.

“Things are crazy right now and we’re stuck at home, and I know you’re anxious about it, but we’re going to be alright, okay? I promise. I won’t let anything bad happen to you.” 

Kenma is quiet for a moment, too many moments, and Kuroo is worried that he’s embarrassed him. He opens his mouth to say something else, but Kenma beats him to it. 

“Thank you, Tetsurou,” he murmurs. “I love you.” 

Kuroo’s cheeks flush _violently_ , a disproportionate response compared to what the two of them just did. He’s overcome with a surge of affection so intense he feels like he can’t breathe, like his heart is going to burst in his chest. He pulls Kenma closer, impossibly closer, and breathes him in desperately. Despite the chaos of the world around him, he feels like he could stay like this forever. 

“I love you too, Kenma.”

**Author's Note:**

> someone just punt me off a bridge


End file.
